Pinch yourself; this is real. The barriers ahead of you may be reminiscent of those at your local shopping centre but this is very different. Crowds don't gather at the barriers at any shopping centre I've been to. And fellow shoppers don't often turn up in stripped out hot hatches and supercars. These barriers stand between the world's most famous stretch of tarmac and I. The hallowed Nordschleife circuit weaves, plunges and writhes its way through some 13 miles of German countryside and I'm about to fulfil an ambition by driving it. I'm lucky, very lucky, as the car I'm nervously sat behind the wheel of is the spanking new BMW M5.

The idea to come was born a few months ago when we received an invite to the media launch for the new M5 in France. Fortuitously this almost coincided with the launch of Gran Turismo 4, which as luck would have it features the new M5. More importantly it also contains a perfect replica of the 'ring, allowing me to get a taste of it without setting foot in Germany.

I've wanted to visit the Nürburgring for years and never made it happen. When the planets align like they did here I was not about to miss out on the opportunity. I immersed myself in GT4 for hours at a time, pushing my virtual M5 harder and harder while learning the 73 bends (I know that number is debatable) of the track in the process. Whether this virtual world was a fair representation was about to be proved out in the most critical way possible.

After a marathon blast across France and through Belgium, Editor O' Donoghue and I stayed the night in a B&B 20km from Nurburg. I awaken to a glorious, cloudless morning in a stunning picture postcard scenic view. The weather has been kind; rain would have stopped play instantly. The 'ring is not the place to be brave in a £60k, 507bhp BMW M5 based on confidence gained in a computer game - regardless of its accuracy.

Tension builds on the short drive to the track. The surroundings are beautiful; the foothills of the Eiffel Mountains with green fields backed by forest through which a ribbon of smooth tarmac threads its way. The road is busier as we get nearer to Nurburg and the cars are not what you'd see on a normal Sunday morning spin. Trackday specials, supercars and various enthusiasts' favourites constitute 80% of the traffic with motorbikes making up the remainder. Every filling station is packed with exotica and there is a buzz around the place.

This intensifies as we arrive at the gates to the GP circuit where owners' clubs have gathered and people and cars are milling about. Following some redirection from a friendly security guard on the gate we drive the 2km or so from the new GP circuit to the old. Pulling into the car park is an adrenaline rush in itself. It's an enthusiast's nirvana. Weird and wonderful cars gathered with their respective owners. The M5 is causing a stir; not many people will have seen one before and the subtle styling that is ignored by most people has the assembled aficionados grinning and nudging each other.

I can't think of many places where so many like-minded individuals gather. We're all here to do the same thing - the 'ring. We've all made a pilgrimage, be it a 10km blast or a pan European jaunt. I can see in everyone's eyes that we share a common mental set of values. Combined by the common language of "the nod"; see someone in a nice car and upon making eye contact one tightens ones lips, furrows the brow slightly and motions one's head back and forth in a series of short shallow movements. It's amazing, we all have 98 RON fuel in our veins and we all love cars or bikes. This is our church. We have gathered here to worship in our own way. I purchase a ticket from the vending machine outside the office, glimpse the agreement you undertake by going onto the circuit and return to the car.

So here I am, staring at the altar. The ticket is pushed into the machine that spits it back into my hand. The barrier lifts, I engage first, push the power button on the dash to unleash the full wrath of the BMW Motorsport V10 and accelerate into the coned filter that feeds onto the middle of the long back straight. Out of this little coned chicane I accelerate hard up through the gears, round the kink and approach the series of bends upto the old pits. The second gear right-hander feeds onto the short straight that signifies the start of a lap on Gran Turismo.

From here it's a leap of faith. I can't commit 100% as mistakes at the 'ring are costly; one source quotes the recent example of an M3 owner who made a big error. Having rolled his car into the Armco the track was closed. He was charged for the damaged barriers, the recovery of his car and the loss of earnings due to the track closure and was presented with a bill for 15,000 Euro. And that's before he got his beloved car fixed. So, discretion over bravado is the rule of the day.

Regardless, for the bits I can see clearly I push the car as hard as I dare. I don't know where the limits are on track, or road for that matter, as I've driven the BMW mostly on motorway up to now. In a virtual world I know the car well and the real M5 sounds exactly like the game version. A major difference in reality is the traffic. As I learn the circuit, or at least confirm that the game is true to life, I'm not quick or smooth and a lot of faster traffic comes up behind you at this stage. The Nürburgring etiquette dictates that you pull over to the right and let faster cars through but it's distracting and time consuming.

Where I can see the track I'm quick enough, though over fast blind crests I have to lift, as I don't know 100% what is on the other side. Usually this is at critical points. You have to treat the 'ring as a long series of bends and I'm forced to treat each as it comes until I'm sure of the accuracy of the game's rendition. Even in light of these compromises it's exhilarating and the adrenaline rush is incredible. The majority of the first lap is a blur, but my conservatism is clearly illustrated in the last series of corners.

Of all the lights I didn't need to see are those on the snout of another M5: the "Ring Taxi" is essentially an identical car to that which I'm squirting around the track, though the car bearing down on me rapidly is being piloted by 'ring legend Sabine Reck. I move over to give her some room and chuckle as she drifts the car around me on a perfect line, outside wheels just short of kissing the grass on the edge of the track at three figure speeds. Amusingly I can see she is conversing with her paying passengers. Probably saying something about my lack of pace in an identical car. Hey ho, I'm not proud.

I return to the pits to a Mexican wave of "nods", an acknowledgment of my steed, not my lack of talent, and park up. Palms sweating, heart racing and brain frazzled from the mental effort of 10 minutes of total concentration. Wow, what a buzz. Having confirmed the game's near 100% accuracy I now have the confidence to go quicker. A mental time out and a drink later and I am back at the gate and focused.

My second lap is better, much quicker, smoother and confident. Buoyed by the validation of the game's geography I push harder. Critical areas where before I was lifting I now stay more committed and begin to revel in the M5's towering abilities. I also find myself having to concentrate less on the rear view mirror and more on the track ahead. How much of my rate of progress is down to the car's talent relative to mine is never in doubt; a lot of the BMW M5's chassis development was carried out on this very piece of tarmac. I find myself catching other traffic and relishing the experience more and more as I dip into my personal reserves of ability.

On my third lap I probably over step the mark and begin to push too hard. I cross the line between the ethos of car and driver working with track to the realms of trying to catch other people. The visible carrot of other cars on the horizon lures me into chasing some of them and I lose focus. I'd catch more people naturally just by being smooth and accurate and I tell myself off after a few minutes. After this I enjoy it more again, let the car flow instead of forcing it and throwing it around. Drive with finesse and it's much more pleasurable, something the game also reveals.

So the game is very true to life. The geography of the track is spot on, the M5's dynamics are very realistic and in tandem they combine to make the experience a very rewarding and lifelike one. What the game can't do is give you the feel through seat or steering, even with the excellent Logitech Driving Force Pro steering wheel. Neither does the game give any feel of lateral acceleration forces that constantly buffet the body and distract your focus. A reality critical factor is fear; in the virtual world there is none. Driving the real thing introduces questions of mortality and expenses and you can't afford, in financial terms or ultimate price, to take it lightly. People die on the 'ring and accidents are frequent. I wouldn't go near it in the wet or when tired or hungover; contempt that builds with familiarity must also be a killer. I walked away after three laps feeling that I was verging on pushing beyond my abilities and writing a dynamic cheque that my talent couldn't cash.

The one big aspect that the game lacks is the atmosphere. You can't bottle it or reproduce it. Make the journey and you'll understand exactly what I mean. The Nordscheife is an incredibly spiritual place for petrol heads. Intimidating and intoxicating when you're on it and on it, there is no room for anything else in your mind, just you, a car and 13 miles of amazing road. I've never felt so at home. Off track there is a real sense of belonging, a kind of group therapy, in a community of individuals combined by their love of cars and the 'ring.

I'll be going back, a lot. It's in my mind and my soul now and the need to go is building, even only a few weeks after I've come back. Until I can go Gran Turismo 4 can partially quench my thirst, the virtual experience is that good, but you can't beat the real thing.

Dave Jenkins - 7 Jul 2005